


The Slitherbeast King Crowned in Joy and Splendor, All-Surpassing

by Cephalopod



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Rock Stars, special guests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephalopod/pseuds/Cephalopod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's like summer in the corals when the ocean is too hot, just like this, and the water is made of salt sex and you can breathe it in and see yourself breathe it back out</p><p>that's what you do, you breathe sex back out</p><p>(everybody's a rockstar, aw yeah)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Slitherbeast King Crowned in Joy and Splendor, All-Surpassing

**Author's Note:**

> Genre-mix prompt: Dualscar<3

You are the slitherbeast king; you can do anything.

You have no idea what you're doing. There were some drugs at some point and you pretty much just had all of them, because that's the thing you do with drugs, and now you're out here with your shirt off and most of your pants and about a million gallons of sweat all over you and your guitar and your dick is a nine-story brick building and your eyeballs are individual messianic utopias with their own populations of transcendent machine elves that can't talk to each other.

You have no idea what you're doing. 

Apparently it's good, what you're doing, and it had better fucking well be because you're the slitherbeast king and the polyjewellate crown of the world rests on your horns and no one has ever hatched who can make an electric guitar make the sounds you make it make. You look out into the audience and you're probably doing those sounds right now because everyone's screaming because what you're doing is too beautiful and they're all crushing their nipples against the security barrier and sweating

The stink of them is so fucking rich, you can't even handle it, it's like summer in the corals when the ocean is too hot, just like this, and the water is made of salt sex and you can breathe it in and see yourself breathe it back out

that's what you do, you breathe sex back out

and then the Condesce finishes crashing down on the song and closes her lips over her teeth and the dying suns flow back up into the speakers fuck

okay yeah you had a little too much maybe

whatever

you're done you guess

Somebody takes your guitar off you and helps you get backstage, pours a bottle of water over your head and tries to hand you a towel but your hands are a little bit of a problem right now, so it ends up around your shoulders like a cape and by this you are greatly pleased.

“It's the least I can do,” says the soundboard guy, so you know that thing about being greatly pleased was something that happened on the outside of you. 

Also that your towel guy is the soundboard guy Zahhak.

you don't ever have to even think about the soundboard guy because he's so fucking good. You tell him this, he is so fucking good that you could ignore him all fucking day.

“Oh, sir,” he says. “Let's uh. Get you settled down. Just a bit further on.”

Fuck settling down, you tell him. You are the gogdamn slitherbeast king. The rest of the band is on their way to the green room past you and you think maybe Pyrope's giving you some straightedge stinkeye but fuck her, she can play lead guitar after the band breaks up and you die in a hotel room with your nook stuffed full of adolescent bonebulge and cherry lip balm and nobody finds you for eight days and sure, then she can get the band back together to play casinos and solo all she wants. 

You forgot where you were going there for a second. Right, you were the gogdamn slitherbeast king and your soundboard guy was trying to be so fucking gentle about pushing you toward the green room you want to cry a little.

“I'm ignoring the shit out a you right noww,” you say, but you're totally not, you're letting him sort of catch you because you are too majestically maudlin to remain upright at the moment. Fucker doesn't even have to bend his knees to catch you, it's like falling into a machine.

You lift both hands in front of your face and watch the trace images of it curl around and make all sorts of secret signs to you. Mouths open in your palm, mouths with golden tongues and ruby teeth, and this is a portent which you feel that you understand fully: you raise your holy hands and you pap those golden tongues straight and slow across your sound guy's face.

He nearly drops you. It's like he doesn't even have a face anymore, it's just blue and your hands and huge blue eyes staring at you from between your fingers.

You twist around like a hissbeast to perch your bulge over his through most of your pants and grab his waist with your legs, you know he's good for this, between your legs he's like a furnace and he's shaking a little, fuck yeah that's good

maybe there's some people around, maybe you're back on the stage and thousands of discerning persons are just standing there watching you grind your junk all wet and saltnasty on your sound guy, maybe you're on national television, whatever

You slide your horns up under his chin and jam his head up good and hard so you can lick his neck and you tell him 

“I'm going to fuck you to death”

“and you're going to make me breakfast”

and Zahhak almost drops you again but you've got his junk tearing your pants to get in your nook and you've got all his hair in your fists and you are. The gogdamn. Slitherbeast king.

You're the slitherbeast king. That's what's important here.

**Author's Note:**

> SUPERSECRET BONUS PLAYBILL FOR THE SHOW :D
> 
> Troll John Quincy Adams and her Cabinet of Advisors  
> The Farts  
> The Sensuous Gangsters  
> Eight Pillars Astride the River of Heaven  
> ****The Vultures of Sensation****


End file.
